


When You're Gone

by Nihonkikuasa211



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Malaya-centric, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6520513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihonkikuasa211/pseuds/Nihonkikuasa211
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Malaya is alone, she mourns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You're Gone

**Author's Note:**

> This is sometime between the end of 1x12 and 1x13.

                                                                       _When You're Gone_

 

All she could do was smile and pretend that everything was alright.

When everything was not alright.

It was farther from that desperate lie.

Malaya wasn’t certain of how she managed to fall asleep the day after Carla died. By all accounts, she _shouldn’t_ be able to fall asleep.

But she did.

She did, just as she was about to cry.

There were no secrets at Angels. It seemed that the morning after Carla’s death, everyone had known. The nurses and the fellow doctors of the ER who had once worked with Dr. Carla Niven appeared to fall deathly silent whenever Malaya walked by. It was frustrating. Weeks passed, and it was the same. _I’m fine!_ Malaya wanted to yell even though her throat choked on the lie. _I’m fine! It’s her son that you have to worry about!_ Even the other residents, including Mario, appeared to be aware of the relationship Malaya had with Carla. There was so much that each one of them wanted to say but didn’t say it. For that, Malaya was grateful.

She had gone through a broken heart before. The first year resident could do it again.

Even though the person who had broken her heart along with hers was no longer even breathing.

The raw emotion of grief and torment followed Malaya wherever she went. The knowledge that the person, the woman who had given up her life to give birth to a baby boy in the NICU, was now gone ripped a hole in the young resident’s heart no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that she was fine.

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

Malaya was convinced that her eyes were dry during Carla’s funeral was because she was numb. So numb she couldn’t feel anything. It was almost as if she was seeing something far away, separated from her own body as she saw the people surrounding the casket. Malaya’s dark eyes followed the subdued and grieving form of Carla’s father, the namesake of the little baby who was fighting for his life in the same hospital his mother had died in. His tears echoed in her mind, and the look of pure agony in his eyes as the older Phillip Niven glanced at caused a sharp pain in Malaya’s heart. The scene of the casket carrying the woman she loved lowered on the ground as soil was placed on top of it almost seemed like a dream. How Malaya wished it was. The first year resident wished more than anything that Carla was still alive – able to see her son Phillip grow and develop as the man she believed he would become. _“Strong and smart, enough to get two PhDs,”_ the dying woman had joked before Phillip had been born. There was laughter in her eyes that hadn’t been there for a long time, and Malaya forced herself not to weep.

Because it was likely the last time that Malaya would ever see Carla – _her_ Carla – smile again.

She was aware the Jesse was by her side, his presence distant to the young resident as her frozen expression stared at freshly covered soil. The senior nurse was silent, aware of the resident’s current feelings. Malaya had heard from Christa of how Jesse had been by Dr. Rorish’s side after her family had died. No one truly knew the details. Except for the small moment when Dr. Rorish had mentioned her son when talking about _The Lion King_ , there was nothing. Malaya suspected that she knew the most of the deaths that were never mentioned out of all the residents. She could see the said doctor looking at her with knowing eyes as she stood beside Dr. Hudson. Both of the attending’s faces held masks of grief, for they had known Carla throughout her residency.

Dr. Guthrie was there as well. He appeared to be staring gently at Malaya, watching her as his wise eyes said words that he did not say.

Malaya had been shocked that the other residents had come to the funeral as well. It seemed that it was their way of expressing their respect and condolences to the attending they had only heard in passing. For a moment, it looked as if Angus wanted to say something to Malaya as the gravestone was placed above the soil, but a gentle hand by Christa only stopped the taller male as Malaya turned and stared at the gravestone which meant so much.

Malaya didn’t know of how she was able to sleep that night. The memories of the funeral and afterward haunted her mind, and it took all of her willpower to not cry herself to sleep. She had already done that once. Carla would want her to be happy. She would want her to take care of her son, to make certain that he would know that his mother loved him.

But it seemed that when Malaya was alone, her true feelings surfaced. She could no longer pretend that she was fine and didn’t need anyone to talk to. She didn’t need to use the excuse that because Carla was sick, the grief was less because she knew that she was dying…as opposed to the accident that took Dr. Rorish’s family. But when she alone, alone in the house that she had created the same memories with Carla and the life they had together…destroyed whatever composure Malaya had left.

 _I just want you back._ Malaya had hugged her pillow as if it was a hand she so desperately wanted to touch again as tears fell from her cheeks. _I just want you back._

_Carla…why did you have to leave?_

No one knew when death would come to take them. Even those who understood death more than others. Malaya absently wondered if this pain – this mind-numbing, agonizing pain that appeared to increase – would stay with her. If it would develop into an ugly scar and never go away, throbbing whenever she would hear another story of a lost lover in the ER, the patient or family member crying out a precious name.

It was only when she was alone that Malaya could cry.

The emotions felt so real, bleeding from her broken heart as Malaya mourned alone.


End file.
